


Changing Channels Meme: Supernatural/Bewitched

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Bewitched (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Crossover, Episode Related, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-09
Updated: 2009-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean ended up in "Bewitched". Written for the "Kripke Started It" Changing Channels Free For All Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Channels Meme: Supernatural/Bewitched

Funnily enough, it takes Sam a longer time to adjust to the monochromatic color scheme than anything else. He barely notices the furniture, the house, and even the quaint if severely outdated clothes he’s wearing (which _are_ comfortable, though he knows Dean’s freaking out about it wherever he is), because he’s too busy trying to stop going cross-eyed from parsing foreground and background and the shades of grey that are apparently part of this universe.

He’s not quite sure if this is better or worse than the eyeball-searing sitcom pastels.

“Hello, Samuel.”

The startled noise he makes is loud enough that even _he_ jumps, following which there’s the sterile twittering of the laugh track.

She’s sitting on the mantelpiece, lips drawn together and eyes calculating. “Look at you, all dolled up and nowhere to go.” She slides her feet down to the floor, the swooshy dress she’s wearing spilling out around her, and clucks her tongue. “Still waiting for Dwight to get home from work?”

“Don’t you mean Dean?” Sam says, mouth on auto-pilot. Then his stomach sinks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oh no, it’s no joke, Samuel,” Endora drawls. “Although sometimes I do think it is; the greatest joke in the whole universe, if you ask me. My little warlock stuck in this boring little life of mortals, doing whatever it is mortals do.” She’s right up in his face, patting his cheeks before she twirls away. “Though I can’t imagine that they actually do anything, what with their too busy trying to not die all the time.”

Sam sighs. “I’m _Samantha_? Seriously?”

“Is this what you do all day, Samuel? Battling dust?” Endora picks up a duster with the very ends of her fingertips, and then lets it drop to the floor with a clatter.

“_Seriously?_” Sam looks up, hoping that the Trickster can hear him. “Do you know how creepy that is?”

Endora’s staring at him now, the easy mischievousness suddenly wiped clean into an eerie blankness, waiting for him to step up.

Sam clears his throat. “_Mother._”

Her face brightens up. “Let’s go to Paris for some tea, hmm? What was that little café we went to, it was only a couple of decades ago, I’m sure it’s still around. I’m having a ridiculous craving for—”

“No, mother.” Sam’s gritting his teeth now. “No more that. I promised Dean that I wouldn’t use any of my powers no matter what I...” Okay, now that’s hitting a little too close to home.

“What Derrick doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Endora says with a wink, and it may be a trick of the light, but for a moment her eyes are too dark.

“_No,_ mother,” Sam says, and he’s ridiculously relieved when her face falls.

“Well, can’t blame a mother for trying,” Endora says. “I’ll just leave you to your boring little boring life in your boring little boring house. Ta!”

It takes Dean way too long to get home, but when he does, he’s cursing up a storm over the stupid outfit he’s wearing and the stupid car he had to drive, but all of that stops when he sees Sam sitting on the couch concentrating hard.

“What’re you doing?” Dean asks.

“Shut up.” In the background, the laughtrack rises to the occasion.

“That’s, like, the bitchiest bitchface I’ve ever seen you make, and I mean—”

“_Shut up_. I’m trying to get us out of here.”

“Oh,” Dean nods. “Okay.” But then he sits on the coffee table right in front of Sam and stares. After a while, he says, “So... you're Samantha.”

Sam glares, one finger poking Dean hard in the chest. “_You_ get replaced and no one even notices, so shut it.”

“Dude, that's not even in the same zip code of funny.”

“This is _hard_, okay!” Sam says, hands flailing. “Do you know how hard this is? Elizabeth Montgomery only used this gimmick because it was a tick she _already had_!”

“It's in the lips,” Dean says.

“What?”

“The lips,” Dean says carefully, raising a finger to touch his own before drawing them tight together and moving them from side to side. “She moved her lips, not her nose. That's how she did it.”

“Oh.”

Dean's frowning now, staring intently at Sam's mouth. “Go ahead.”

Sam swallows, and tries to follow.


End file.
